


Spare Key

by PrincessPlantasaurus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, no sex but past sexual encounters referred to, sexual content without sexual acts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26127034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessPlantasaurus/pseuds/PrincessPlantasaurus
Summary: Same story posted twice: First chapter is original version with my female oc (Veronica), second chapter is edited so that Veronica is reader/"Y/N"Pre-Civil War, Quentin's been spending A LOT of time hooking up with his new personal assistant. She doesn't seem to mind, until she learns she might not be the only one.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Original Female Character(s), Quentin Beck/Reader, Quentin Beck/Victoria Snow (implied)
Kudos: 9





	1. Veronica/Named OC version

Quentin Beck was on the verge of a breakthrough. When Tony Stark had initially chosen his augmented reality drones to fast track for a presentation at MIT, the initial thrill of finally being recognized for his years of hard work quickly fizzled into the stress of getting them done in time. He needed not just one, but several working prototypes, and at the time his project had been chosen, he still didn’t have a single prototype he was happy with.

The additional stress was definitely being transferred onto Veronica. As his personal assistant, she got the brunt of his frustration. Whether that be the constant snapping or yelling and berating her for things that weren’t her fault, which she hated, or the increasingly frequent “bathroom breaks” where, in order to, for lack of a better term “relieve some tension”, he’d pull her into a supply closet and fuck her so hard, so raw, that she couldn’t walk straight for at least a few hours. That part, she enjoyed, although she was a little surprised they hadn’t been caught yet. Or maybe they had, maybe they weren’t the only ones, and simply no one cared so long as the work got done.

They’d been coming off the tail end of one of those “bathroom breaks”, Quentin having invited Veronica into his office as a springboard to talk out the latest glitch now that his mind was clear. She didn’t understand any of the technobabble, and he knew that, but it genuinely helped him to talk the process out. Besides, he liked looking at her. Especially when she looked like this, lipstick still just ever so slightly smudged, and the red of the marks where his teeth had sunken into her neck not completely faded.

“...so if I alter that line of code the lag should-”

“Quentin?” He looked up, puzzled. Because that was not the sweet, mellifluous voice of the gorgeous redheaded perched on the oversized leather chair in the corner of the office. It was coming from the door frame, where a taller, mousier brunette stood. “Sorry, your assistant isn’t out there, and-”

“I have a name.” Veronica interrupted. 

Victoria whipped her head around, having not seen Veronica when she entered the room. Feeling a little embarrassed and more than a little spooked, she muttered out a quick apology, before turning all of her attention to the man in the chair. Veronica simply rolled her eyes. Figures.

As the two engineers began to doubledown on whatever technobabble brought Victoria in, initially, Veronica didn’t care. She wasn’t really paying attention anymore, until something caught her eye.

A touch.

Victoria’s hand on Quentin’s. Veronica knew Victoria, and many other Stark employees, had eyes for Quentin. So while Veronica was a little shocked by Victoria’s forwardness, that’s not what caught her attention. 

Quentin didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull back. He just...let her. And apparently, the conversation had left the realm of technobabble, because Veronica heard a very clear “You’d do that for me?” as she caught Quentin’s thumb caressing the back of Victoria’s hand.

Victoria’s overly familiar promise of “You know I’d do anything for you.” made Veronica’s stomach churn.

Quentin then winked, of all things, charismatic as ever as he replied “That’s what I like to hear.”

Veronica waited for the click of the door fully closing behind Victoria before she questioned “What the hell was that?”

“What?” Quentin played it nonchalant. “She’s my subordinate. She has to report to me.”

“She’d do anything for you?” Veronica repeated back “And what was with that handholding?”

Coyly, Quentin smirked “What, you didn’t think you were my only little office hookup, did you?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Veronica rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

Quentin felt a little attacked by the motion, just because he was trying to manipulate Veronica but he was easily distracted by her boobs. So round, so squishy. But he was nothing if not disciplined. Pulling himself back to the conversation at hand in a mere matter of seconds, he retorted “Look, I like you fine, but I’m not about to be tied down to just one-”

“No, no, not that.” she interrupted, causing Quentin’s brow to furrow as a scowl took over his lips. Quentin Beck did not enjoy being interrupted. “When would you have the time to see other people? I sit outside your office all day so I know you’re not sneaking off into supply closets with anyone but me, and you have me over like 4 or 5 times a week. Where are you finding the time to boink Victoria?”

“Boink?” he repeated, taunting.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, this may come as a surprise to you, honey, but I have more free time for ‘boinking’ than you know.”

“Don’t.” Veronica’s jaw was clenched, so it came out as more of hiss. “Don’t call me that.”

“What wrong, honey? You never minded your little pet name before.”

Raising an eyebrow, she asked “If I’m ‘honey’, what’s Victoria?”

Left eye crinkling a little, he observed “You seem a little jealous.”

She opened her mouth to shoot a reply back, but the distant ringing of his phone line from her desk outside interrupted. “I have to get back to my job.”

His calls of “The job you only got because you were already sleeping with me? The job I gave you for sleeping with me?” fell on deaf ears.

Veronica thought that would be the end of it. It wasn’t like this was their first little spat. Hell, it wasn’t even as though this was the first time they’d argued since she’d been given the job as his assistant. The other times they only spoke to each other on as-need basis for work, giving each other the cold shoulder for about two and half days, until partway through day three Quentin pulled her into a supply closet and two orgasms later they both moved on like they hadn’t been fighting.

But instead, she’d been home for about seven whole minutes before her phone lit up with a text notification from “Q” followed by a string of heart emojis...and a squirting eggplant, just for good measure.

‘Come over tonight.’

She rolled her eyes, typing out an admittedly bratty reply of ‘I’m sorry, was there a ‘please’ there somewhere?’

She’d not been expecting his reply of ‘Maybe I need you to teach me some manners.’

She didn’t get a chance to reply before he began blowing up her phone.

‘Come on.’

‘I’ll cook you dinner’

‘It’ll be romantic and everything.’

‘Please baby’

There was a part of her that was considering it. Even though they’d had quite the “bathroom break” just a few hours earlier, it wasn’t like either of them to turn down a booty call. That’s part of what made them so compatible. But then he had to go and use another pet name. ‘Think you’ve got the wrong bootycall, Beck.’ she typed out, maybe a little too quickly. ‘I’m honey, remember? Victoria must be baby.’

‘You’re my baby and my honey’ he replied damn near instantly ‘I promise this is just for you. I want to see you. I’m trying to be romantic.’

She had half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then she got another text. ‘We don’t even have to bang if you don’t want to. Just come for dinner.’

For Quentin to take sex off the table completely? She knew something was up. It was either something serious, or he was trying to run a bit. Either way, she gave in. 

In all honesty, Quentin was a little disappointed that Veronica hadn’t dressed up a little for him. What she’d been wearing at work earlier was more revealing - that low cut blouse and tight skirt practically daring him to not take her - a dare he’d failed, evidently, as he’d definitely drilled her in the supply closet that afternoon. But here she was in a simple sweater and tight black jeans. Not a totally unflattering outfit, but not the level she usually went to in order to make herself as tempting as possible. Maybe she took his ‘no sex’ thing seriously. He hoped not.

“Glad you could make it.”

“Well, you seemed pretty jazzed about this dinner.”

“Jazzed?” he smirked, once again teasing her for the bizarre word choice. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Pausing only to plant more than just a quick kiss on her lips, her eyes were still fluttered shut as he assured her “I did, don’t worry.”

As Quentin stepped back into the kitchen, dinner pretty well ready to plate, Veronica took in the subtle changes to his apartment. He’d cleaned up a bit, it seemed. The couch now adorned a fuzzy green blanket that usually wasn’t there. But the most obvious change was the only artificial light coming in from the kitchen, the living room lights completely off, lit only from the open kitchen and the lit candles that sat on top of the dining room table. “You really went all out on this huh?”. It was more of a statement than a question.

“Made your favorite and everything.” he replied as he sat the two plates, calling “I told you, I’m being romantic!” over his shoulder as he returned to the kitchen, just to flick off the lightswitch, leaving the two of them completely in the candlelight.

“Well I must admit, I’m impressed.” Veronica smiled down into her plate of pasta. “Especially given how your usual attempts at ‘romance’ are limited to buying me fancy underwear just so you can rip them off with your teeth twenty minutes later.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I got you promoted from basic filing cabinet slave to my personal assistant. Pulling some strings so I could see you more often? Fuck you more often? That seems pretty damn romantic to me.”

“I wasn’t a ‘filing cabinet slave’,” she rolled her eyes “I was a general administrative assistant.”

“Are those really two different things?” he joked, causing her to giggle. 

The pair sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Quentin felt the need to speak up again. “The colour of that sweater really suits you. Brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks.” Veronica smiled sheepishly down at her food, before admitting. “I was already starting to get changed when I got your first text, and I figured I’d stay comfortable, since I didn’t know if I shot you down if you’d keep asking or just ask Victoria instead-”

The high pitched clank of Quentin dropping his fork was enough to make Veronica gasp and freeze. His temper wasn’t something new to her. They both knew that. “I really thought you were smarter than that.” he sighed disappointingly, pushing himself up and away from the table.

Veronica sat eerily still, not daring to do so much as pick at her food, with each of Quentin’s footsteps towards her, she could feel her own heartbeat pounding in her ears more and more, drowning out any thought other than the pure fear of uncertainty.

Quentin spun her chair around, and immediately leaned down over her, his body towering over hers. One hand gripped the back of her chair above her shoulder, the other teasingly roamed her inner thigh. “I really thought you’d already figured it out. Guess you’re not as smart as I pegged you for.”

Under different circumstances, she would have jokingly pointed out his use of the word ‘pegged’, but she was both scared and aroused. A dangerous combination, but a combination she knew all too well that Quentin loved to play with.

He leaned a little closer, leaving light pecks along Veronica’s jaw before bringing his lips, hot and wet, to her ear, as he confessed in a husky growl that was barely above a whisper “I’ve never slept with Victoria, honey. I’m not seeing anyone else. I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“B-but today...in your office…?”

“Oh, Victoria has it bad for me. Can you blame her? So did you.” he ran the hand that had previously been clawing at her thigh through her hair, tracing it down the side of her face, but stopping at her neck, gently closing around it. Not hard enough to actually cut off any air, but just enough that Veronica knew that he could if he wanted to. “And the flustered little way you get when you’re jealous? Adorable.”

Veronica seemed less on edge now, more her usual sweet but smarmy self as she questioned “So all of this was just to get a rise out of me?”

While keeping his loose grip on her throat, he let the hand that had been caging her in fall to stroke her face, kissing the side of her mouth before admitting “I think you’d be surprised how much time I dedicate to toying with you.”, and then leaning in to kiss her deeply.

“Oh!” his eyes lit up, suddenly resembling an excited child more than the sexy adult man who’d pinned her on a chair, even if just for a fleeting moment. “I almost forgot, I have something for you.”

“You said no sex tonight!” Veronica teased. “If this is more underwear-”

“It’s not underwear.” he promised, pulling a small, wrapped, gift box out of his work bag. “I’ve actually been meaning to give you this for a while, but I thought I’d play with your feelings and our unofficial relationship status a bit first.”

Veronica simply nodded mutely at his words. Sure, she was hoping this meant he was finally willing to label things properly. Finally willing to be exclusive. The satisfaction of having him refer to her as ‘his girlfriend’ in front of Victoria was far too tempting. Picking at the paper, she opened the box…

...to find what looked like...a spare key?

She looked up to him, puzzled.

“You’re the one who kept passively aggressively hinting that we be ‘serious’ and ‘exclusive’” Quentin rolled his eyes in mock disgust, because he clearly also wanted things to head in that direction, evidenced by his explanation of “No more booty calls. I want you to move in with me.”


	2. Reader version

Quentin Beck was on the verge of a breakthrough. When Tony Stark had initially chosen his augmented reality drones to fast track for a presentation at MIT, the initial thrill of finally being recognized for his years of hard work quickly fizzled into the stress of getting them done in time. He needed not just one, but several working prototypes, and at the time his project had been chosen, he still didn’t have a single prototype he was happy with.

The additional stress was definitely being transferred onto you. As his personal assistant, you got the brunt of his frustration. Whether that be the constant snapping or yelling and berating you for things that weren’t your fault, which you hated, or the increasingly frequent “bathroom breaks” where, in order to, for lack of a better term “relieve some tension”, he’d pull you into a supply closet and fuck you so hard, so raw, that you couldn’t walk straight for at least a few hours. That part, you enjoyed, although you was a little surprised you hadn’t been caught yet. Or maybe you had, maybe you weren’t the only ones, and simply no one cared so long as the work got done.

You’d been coming off the tail end of one of those “bathroom breaks”, Quentin having invited you into his office as a springboard to talk out the latest glitch now that his mind was clear. You didn’t understand any of the technobabble, and he knew that, but it genuinely helped him to talk the process out. Besides, he liked looking at you. Especially when you looked like this, lipstick still just ever so slightly smudged, and the red of the marks where his teeth had sunken into you neck not completely faded.

“...so if I alter that line of code the lag should-”

“Quentin?” He looked up, puzzled. Because that was not the sweet, mellifluous voice of the gorgeous woman perched on the oversized leather chair in the corner of the office. It was coming from the door frame, where a mousy brunette stood. “Sorry, your assistant isn’t out there, and-”

“I have a name.” You interrupted. 

Victoria whipped her head around, having not seen you when she entered the room. Feeling a little embarrassed and more than a little spooked, she muttered out a quick apology, before turning all of her attention to the man in the chair. You simply rolled your eyes. Figures.

As the two engineers began to doubledown on whatever technobabble brought Victoria in, initially, you didn’t care. You weren't really paying attention anymore, until something caught your eye.

A touch.

Victoria’s hand on Quentin’s. You knew Victoria, and many other Stark employees, had eyes for Quentin. So while you were a little shocked by Victoria’s forwardness, that’s not what caught your attention. 

Quentin didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull back. He just...let her. And apparently, the conversation had left the realm of technobabble, because you heard a very clear “You’d do that for me?” as you caught Quentin’s thumb caressing the back of Victoria’s hand.

Victoria’s overly familiar promise of “You know I’d do anything for you.” made your stomach churn.

Quentin then winked, of all things, charismatic as ever as he replied “That’s what I like to hear.”

You waited for the click of the door fully closing behind Victoria before you questioned “What the hell was that?”

“What?” Quentin played it nonchalant. “She’s my subordinate. She has to report to me.”

“She’d do anything for you?” You repeated back “And what was with that handholding?”

Coyly, Quentin smirked “What, you didn’t think you were my only little office hookup, did you?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

Quentin felt a little attacked by the motion, just because he was trying to manipulate you but he was easily distracted by your boobs. So round, so squishy. But he was nothing if not disciplined. Pulling himself back to the conversation at hand in a mere matter of seconds, he retorted “Look, I like you fine, but I’m not about to be tied down to just one-”

“No, no, not that.” you interrupted, causing Quentin’s brow to furrow as a scowl took over his lips. Quentin Beck did not enjoy being interrupted. “When would you have the time to see other people? I sit outside your office all day so I know you’re not sneaking off into supply closets with anyone but me, and you have me over like 4 or 5 times a week. Where are you finding the time to boink Victoria?”

“Boink?” he repeated, taunting.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, this may come as a surprise to you, honey, but I have more free time for ‘boinking’ than you know.”

“Don’t.” Your jaw was clenched, so it came out as more of hiss. “Don’t call me that.”

“What wrong, honey? You never minded your little pet name before.”

Raising an eyebrow, you asked “If I’m ‘honey’, what’s Victoria?”

Left eye crinkling a little, he observed “You seem a little jealous.”

You opened your mouth to shoot a reply back, but the distant ringing of his phone line from her desk outside interrupted. “I have to get back to my job.”

His calls of “The job you only got because you were already sleeping with me? The job I gave you for sleeping with me?” fell on deaf ears.

You thought that would be the end of it. It wasn’t like this was their first little spat. Hell, it wasn’t even as though this was the first time you’d argued since you’d been given the job as his assistant. The other times you only spoke to each other on as-need basis for work, giving each other the cold shoulder for about two and half days, until partway through day three Quentin pulled you into a supply closet and two orgasms later you both moved on like you hadn’t been fighting.

But instead, you’d been home for about seven whole minutes before your phone lit up with a text notification from “Q” followed by a string of heart emojis...and a squirting eggplant, just for good measure.

‘Come over tonight.’

You rolled her eyes, typing out an admittedly bratty reply of ‘I’m sorry, was there a ‘please’ there somewhere?’

You’d not been expecting his reply of ‘Maybe I need you to teach me some manners.’

You didn’t get a chance to reply before he began blowing up your phone.

‘Come on.’

‘I’ll cook you dinner’

‘It’ll be romantic and everything.’

‘Please baby’

There was a part of you that was considering it. Even though you’d had quite the “bathroom break” just a few hours earlier, it wasn’t like either of you to turn down a booty call. That’s part of what made you so compatible. But then he had to go and use another pet name. ‘Think you’ve got the wrong bootycall, Beck.’ you typed out, maybe a little too quickly. ‘I’m honey, remember? Victoria must be baby.’

‘You’re my baby and my honey’ he replied damn near instantly ‘I promise this is just for you. I want to see you. I’m trying to be romantic.’

You had half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then you got another text. ‘We don’t even have to bang if you don’t want to. Just come for dinner.’

For Quentin to take sex off the table completely? You knew something was up. It was either something serious, or he was trying to run a bit. Either way, you gave in. 

In all honesty, Quentin was a little disappointed that you hadn’t dressed up a little for him. What you’d been wearing at work earlier was more revealing - that low cut blouse and tight skirt practically daring him to not take you - a dare he’d failed, evidently, as he’d definitely drilled you in the supply closet that afternoon. But here you were in a simple sweater and tight black jeans. Not a totally unflattering outfit, but not the level you usually went to in order to make yourself as tempting as possible. Maybe you took his ‘no sex’ thing seriously. He hoped not.

“Glad you could make it.”

“Well, you seemed pretty jazzed about this dinner.”

“Jazzed?” he smirked, once again teasing you for the bizarre word choice. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Pausing only to plant more than just a quick kiss on your lips, your eyes were still fluttered shut as he assured you “I did, don’t worry.”

As Quentin stepped back into the kitchen, dinner pretty well ready to plate, you took in the subtle changes to his apartment. He’d cleaned up a bit, it seemed. The couch now adorned a fuzzy green blanket that usually wasn’t there. But the most obvious change was the only artificial light coming in from the kitchen, the living room lights completely off, lit only from the open kitchen and the lit candles that sat on top of the dining room table. “You really went all out on this huh?”. It was more of a statement than a question.

“Made your favorite and everything.” he replied as he sat the two plates, calling “I told you, I’m being romantic!” over his shoulder as he returned to the kitchen, just to flick off the lightswitch, leaving the two of you completely in the candlelight.

“Well I must admit, I’m impressed.” You smiled down into your plate of pasta. “Especially given how your usual attempts at ‘romance’ are limited to buying me fancy underwear just so you can rip them off with your teeth twenty minutes later.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I got you promoted from basic filing cabinet slave to my personal assistant. Pulling some strings so I could see you more often? Fuck you more often? That seems pretty damn romantic to me.”

“I wasn’t a ‘filing cabinet slave’,” you rolled your eyes “I was a general administrative assistant.”

“Are those really two different things?” he joked, causing you to giggle. 

You both sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Quentin felt the need to speak up again. “The colour of that sweater really suits you. Brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks.” You smiled sheepishly down at your food, before admitting. “I was already starting to get changed when I got your first text, and I figured I’d stay comfortable, since I didn’t know if I shot you down if you’d keep asking or just ask Victoria instead-”

The high pitched clank of Quentin dropping his fork was enough to make you gasp and freeze. His temper wasn’t something new to you. You both knew that. “I really thought you were smarter than that.” he sighed disappointingly, pushing himself up and away from the table.

You sat eerily still, not daring to do so much as pick at your food, with each of Quentin’s footsteps towards you, you could feel your own heartbeat pounding in your ears more and more, drowning out any thought other than the pure fear of uncertainty.

Quentin spun your chair around, and immediately leaned down over you, his body towering over yours. One hand gripped the back of your chair above your shoulder, the other teasingly roamed your inner thigh. “I really thought you’d already figured it out. Guess you’re not as smart as I pegged you for.”

Under different circumstances, you would have jokingly pointed out his use of the word ‘pegged’, but you were both scared and aroused. A dangerous combination, but a combination you knew all too well that Quentin loved to play with.

He leaned a little closer, leaving light pecks along your jaw before bringing his lips, hot and wet, to your ear, as he confessed in a husky growl that was barely above a whisper “I’ve never slept with Victoria, honey. I’m not seeing anyone else. I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“B-but today...in your office…?”

“Oh, Victoria has it bad for me. Can you blame her? So did you.” he ran the hand that had previously been clawing at you thigh through your hair, tracing it down the side of your face, but stopping at your neck, gently closing around it. Not hard enough to actually cut off any air, but just enough that you knew that he could if he wanted to. “And the flustered little way you get when you’re jealous? Adorable.”

You seemed less on edge now, more your usual sweet but smarmy self as you questioned “So all of this was just to get a rise out of me?”

While keeping his loose grip on your throat, he let the hand that had been caging you in fall to stroke your face, kissing the side of your mouth before admitting “I think you’d be surprised how much time I dedicate to toying with you.”, and then leaning in to kiss you deeply.

“Oh!” his eyes lit up, suddenly resembling an excited child more than the sexy adult man who’d pinned you to chair, even if just for a fleeting moment. “I almost forgot, I have something for you.”

“You said no sex tonight!” You teased. “If this is more underwear-”

“It’s not underwear.” he promised, pulling a small, wrapped, gift box out of his work bag. “I’ve actually been meaning to give you this for a while, but I thought I’d play with your feelings and our unofficial relationship status a bit first.”

You simply nodded mutely at his words. Sure, you were hoping this meant he was finally willing to label things properly. Finally willing to be exclusive. The satisfaction of having him refer to you as ‘his girlfriend’ in front of Victoria was far too tempting. Picking at the paper, you opened the box…

...to find what looked like...a spare key?

You looked up to him, puzzled.

“You’re the one who kept passively aggressively hinting that we be ‘serious’ and ‘exclusive’” Quentin rolled his eyes in mock disgust, because he clearly also wanted things to head in that direction, evidenced by his explanation of “No more booty calls. I want you to move in with me.”


End file.
